


secrets are like friends

by yourinsomnia



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Either way works really, Gen if you squint, M/M, Not Gen if you squint, would this be considered a songfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourinsomnia/pseuds/yourinsomnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sketch of Hikaru and Akira stuck in traffic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	secrets are like friends

“Damn it!” Shindou cursed and slammed on the breaks. Akira felt the seat belt snap across his torso as his body lurched violently forward.

“Why is there traffic? It’s not even rush hour,” Shindou muttered and veered into the neighboring lane where cars seemed to be moving faster. But that was deceptive; after moving a few meters they came to another full stop. The expressway was inundated with cars. 

“I don’t know,” Akira replied and glanced at the clock. Even with traffic, they might just make it in time for Akira to take his place as a panelist at the Tokyo Tech Go Seminar, but not quite in time for Akira not to get reprimanded by the organizers of the Seminar for being nearly late. 

Akira sighed and turned on the radio. 

Living in Tokyo, Shindou rarely got to use his car. Which meant that he loved every opportunity to do so, even when said opportunity involved giving Akira a ride. 

At first Akira was adamant about skipping out on such luxury, because he was only all too familiar with the driving techniques of Shindou’s instructor, Kawai-san, who had given them rides at Shindou’s behest a couple of times, and frankly, the taxi-driver’s mentorship inspired very little confidence. However, if there was one thing Akira could always count on, it was Shindou being just as adamant about what he wanted. And indeed; Shindou kept insisting and offering to drive him home every single time they played at Touya Go Salon, until the evening Akira put on a stoic face and climbed into the car with him. To his surprise, he found that, although Shindou did adopt some of Kawai-san’s impatience, he was not an altogether reckless driver. 

As to Shindou’s verbal passion that was fueled by endless Tokyo traffic - conversations about Go usually helped with that. Or the radio, if they were not in the mood. 

Touya looked out the window and allowed the winter ocean to mesmerize him. It was a menacing color of dark teal, stark against the purity of the afternoon sky; the water so restless it looked like it was swallowing the world. 

He instinctively tugged at his scarf, even though it was warm in the car. 

The music that flowed from the radio was fittingly tumultuous too; the beat of the electric notes practically in sync with the powerful bursts of wind hitting from outside and reverberating through the car.

He wondered if he merely imagined the storm that was raging on around him or if Shindou noticed it too. He turned to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Shindou asked, sparing him a look before bringing his attention back on the road. 

“I…” Akira really didn’t know what to say. “Nothing.” He replied and turned his face to the window again. Perhaps that was the problem. That nothing was wrong at all. He felt warm and comfortable and in moments like this it scared him. 

“This song is nice,” Shindou said suddenly, his voice barely audible above the music. “What’s it about?”

The question seemed nonsensical for all of a heartbeat until Akira remembered that Shindou’s proficiency of the English language was abysmal and he was counting on him to decipher the foreign words. Akira wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics before and when he tried to now, he was not surprised to find that his English was hardly sufficient for translating lyrics. 

“Not sure. Something about secret friends.”

“Secret friends?”

“Mmm, yeah. ‘My secret friend...take me…’ somewhere.” Akira concluded as the last notes of the song drummed out and a cheerful voice of the DJ cut in. He reached across to the controls and turned off the radio completely.

“I wonder…” Shindou said. 

“Yes?”

“What kind of friends are secret?”

Akira rested his fingers on the window and felt them go numb from the cold. _Tap. Tap._

They played this game for years. The game of secrets hinted at and then buried again. Of speaking up loudly one instant and then falling silent the next; of silence made incomplete by the half-truths hanging in the air. 

One day Shindou would get tired, Akira told himself over and over, to keep the frustration at bay, before it tore him, or their friendship, apart.

“You tell me,” Akira said. 

_What if he never will?_

Shindou smiled, looking straight ahead, and said nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> The song is My Secret Friend by IMAX & Imogen Heap. Relates to Hikago only incidentally and very elusively.


End file.
